


He doesn't seem the type to pay

by womanroaring



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ancel wears gaudy designer clothes and likes champagne, Berencel, Berenger is a tax lawyer, Damen and Laurent's firms have just merged, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanroaring/pseuds/womanroaring
Summary: Post-Pet post-canon modern au where Damen is confused by Ancel and Berenger's relationship.Nothing raunchy; only rated T for mention of sex.For my friend @magiclamd on tumblr, who was squealing at me over Pet, kept sending me funny ideas, and was disappointed there wasn't more fanwork already (even though it's literally been days).I should HT king-smaurent on tumblr as well, since it was one of their posts that magiclamd sent me, suggesting modern AUs with Berenger as like Laurent's "financial adviser or lawyer" that sent me over this edge.





	He doesn't seem the type to pay

Damen didn't mind functions. They were part of his job, his life, after all. But they had definitely taken on a more decadent tone since the merger with DeVere. He was torn about whether he thought this was a good or a bad thing. 

His property investment and construction business, Akielos Developments, had hosted more project openings and parties for clients than he could count, but they'd always used third party marketing and events planners. DeVere were different. The most elite architecture and interior design firm in the country, they prided themselves on attention to detail. This meant all sorts of things were done in-house, even down to the manufacturing of certain building materials, furniture and even fabrics, via subsidiary companies.

The two firms were of similar sizes, but the sheer complexity of DeVere had had him reeling at first. Now he was used to it. Even to the fancy parties, like this one, an end-of-year celebration for VIP clients and customers, at a very exclusive, elegant bar that DeVere had helped fit out right before the merger. 

Nearly everyone had left, now. He had taken off his jacket, his tie. Laurent was sitting next to him, still looking perfect, in a beautifully tailored three-piece suit with a lot of small buttons that Damen would probably find quite frustrating to undo later, depending on how quickly he needed to get Laurent naked. And on the other side of Laurent was Berenger, the head of their tax and finance department, who had come to the party not to enjoy himself or mingle, but to discuss some complicated issue of compliance that Laurent seemed to be hoping that the man would twist around for him.

For his part, Damen could only nod at words like "transfer pricing" and "gearing" and "import duty" for so long at a party before he found himself heading to the bar.

There was a young redhead waiting there already, talking at Lazar, who was mostly just staring at the redhead's tight, skimpy outfit.

"He is one of the best tax lawyers in the country," Red was saying. "You know Laurent totally stole him from his own accountancy firm? He was a founding partner, he made a bucket-load when he sold his share. Baby?"

This last was not addressed to Lazar, but was yelled across the room, back towards the group Damen had just left. They all looked up. "Can I get the Cristal? It's a magnum, we can all share! Pleeeeeeease?"

Damen nearly had a heart attack when it was Berenger that answered. "Whatever you want, Ancel," the man said, mildly, and then presumably went back to talking about third-party transactions.

Damen turned to look at the redhead again, as he took a seat at the bar to wait his turn. Damen wasn't sure, but he'd guess that everything from his shoes to his earrings -- he had three of them -- was designer. Of the most gaudy, colourful, "I was expensive" type. He was also wearing make-up, and his long hair looked suspiciously like he had demanded a professional hairdresser make it look like a perfect blowdry that had been destroyed by bedsport.

Or possibly that's exactly what had happened to his hair.

With… Berenger.

Boring, bland Berenger, who wore brown suits and knew how depreciation schedules worked.

Damen's brain was imploding. Laurent's company really was like a foreign country.

Ancel was skipping away back to the table, two members of barstaff following -- one holding a tray laden with glasses, the other with the bottle in a bucket.

He sat in Berenger's lap, clapping, while the champagne was poured.

Laurent seemed completely unperturbed by any of this.

Damen needed some air. He got his glass of wine and went out onto the balcony.

It transpired that his 2IC, Nikandros, was already out there. He usually tired of these things well before Damen did. He slapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Did I just see you get a look at Berenger's boyfriend?" Nikandros said, and Damen nodded in a stunned sort of way.

"I won't lie -- I'd wonder if Berenger hired him, but he seems much too straight-laced to pay."

"Yes, they do seem an odd match. I suppose Berenger can't be faulted for liking a pretty face, but I wonder what Ancel sees in him?"

"He's very rich," a tart voice said behind them. They turned, their tanned olive faces reddening at this new participant in their conversation. Ancel put his manicured hand on his haute coutured hip (the other was holding a champagne tray perfectly flat on his palm, like he was a 50s housewife). He went on with, "he knows _everybody_ , he buys me _anything_ I want, and -- most importantly -- he is, by a mile, the _best_ sex I have ever had."

"It does help, doesn't it?" Laurent said, slipping around him and sidling up to Damen.

It occurred to Damen that they must be around the same age.

"Champagne?" Ancel asked brightly.

Nikandros sculled the rest of his beer and reached for a glass, looking as though he was wondering why he put up with any of this.

**Author's Note:**

> (I've just realised "sculling" your beer is an Australian thing -- it just means you drink it all up without putting down the glass. Kind of like American chugging I guess? Not 100% sure but either way I have word aversion to the term "chug" so I couldn't use that, sorry.)


End file.
